


nearer to the wonder of the sun

by wanderlustlover



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 09:10:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderlustlover/pseuds/wanderlustlover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was thirteen the first time she sent men off to die for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nearer to the wonder of the sun

**Author's Note:**

> Challenge: Centennial International Women's Day  
> Prompt: Padme-Amidala: invincible.  
> Author: wanderlustlover  
> Summary: She was thirteen the first time she sent men off to die for her.   
> Disclaimer: Padme belongs to Anakin, then Lucas Films n' Star Wars, and sometimes Natlie Portman's likeness. The title belongs to Sir Gilbert Parker's 'Sonnets from 'A Lover's Diary.'

She was thirteen the first time she sent men off to die for her, for her world. Her whole life had been leading straight to leadership. The youngest queen. The first biggest act of war in ages. She was thirteen the first time she sent men off to die for her, for her world.   
  
  
And when she did that, the people thought she stayed on her throne staring out windows, waiting on those who would save them. But she didn't. She left a decoy and she went, anywhere she could, to get whatever help she could. There was no pride she would not tear off, like the beads in her hair, or the yards of fabric in her dress, and get down on her knees, in the middle of her great lie.   
  
It was all for them. Her life. Her world.   
It had no place for the vanity of pride.   
Or power. Or fear. Or doubt.   
She would die for that, too.   
  
Only belief in the right and the wrong.   
Only faith that her world would come out stronger.   
  
  
  
And how could anyone doubted her, how could any assumed the steadily growing lies and softly spinning rumors, when she became an ambassador, passing on being begged to remain queen, choosing to uphold the law over even that possible vanity?   
  
Even pregnant and assumed abandoned or mistaken, her chin stayed up. Her brown eyes flashed with anger and righteousness and compassion. She never left her post. She never betrayed an ounce of shame.   
  
There was only ever one right and only ever one wrong.   
There was only ever one world she belonged in.   
  
Only one world her children must be born in.   
  
  
  
She was thirteen the first time she sent men off to die for her. When she left her world, willing to die for it, too. To prostate her own blood and heart and soul if it might free her people. She changed history. She changed policy. She became a legend. She became a standard. At thirteen. As a queen.    
  
  
  
Why would anyone think she would ever do less for her children as a mother?


End file.
